Doubt
by the-kings-tail-fin
Summary: Cruz loves Team Dinoco, but after Lightning passes the title of crew chief on to Cal, she's not sure she's ready for the new dynamics.


Cal looked at the readouts from the pit box. Something felt off, but he couldn't quite place it.

"She did good today, boss," one of the crew commented in passing. "And good call on those adjustments."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "Good work today, boys."

Cruz dipped off the track and onto pit row, ending her practice session. She approached the team's pit box slowly, not bothering to simulate pit row speed one last time.

Cal looked from the data readouts to the incoming racecar and back again. His brow furrowed. Something wasn't right.

The crew surrounded Cruz as she came to a stop in front of them.

"Yeah, put it here, Cruz!"

"Good run, kid."

"Gonna smoke those boys this weekend!"

Cruz smiled and thanked them for their compliments. She looked to Cal. His expression seemed hesitant and empty. She looked away.

Cal opened his mouth to commend her as well, but stopped himself. Her numbers were way off and he wasn't going to lie to her. This wasn't what McQueen had shown him that she was capable of. This wasn't anywhere near how she ran at Florida earlier that same year. However, the data did reflect the struggles the team had experienced since McQueen had handed the reins over to Cal. Cruz wasn't doing so well. Was it his fault?

"That's a wrap today, guys," he announced instead. "Let's give it another shot tomorrow morning before everyone else starts arriving for practice, alright? But take the night off."

A chorus of collective cheers went up from the crew as they began to depart. Cruz quietly started to follow them.

"Uh, Cruz, stay here a minute?" Cal asked. "I wanna talk to you."

Cruz cringed.

The races at the Motor Speedway of the South were a big deal for Team Dinoco. Over the last thirty years, nearly a third of the races at the track had been won by a Weathers. A _third._ Over thirty years!

But this wasn't her best track, not by a long shot. And things without McQueen as her crew chief were… different.

"I did horrible, didn't I?" she blurted. "I'm sorry, I don't know what it is, I tried - "

"Cruz, it's okay," Cal said in a gentle tone, coming around the barrier to face her directly. "You did fine. Not as good as you have been doing, but hey, that's why we're practicing, right?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I want to do better but - "

"But what?" Cal asked patiently. He didn't want her to panic. "Come on Cruz, let's take a little drive. Tell me what's on your mind."

They had free reign of the entire speedway except for a few milling workers, getting things ready for race weekend. Cal led Cruz underneath the stands and up into the suites and business center. Cruz followed, unsure where her crew chief was taking her. She'd seen the inside of a million racetrack operations, what made this one any different?

Cal noticed Cruz fall into line behind him. He pulled to the left and slowed down to put her beside him.

"Tell me what's on your mind," Cal repeated. "I want you to be able to trust me, Cruz. Do you?"

"What?" Cruz asked, a little surprised. This wasn't the lecture she'd expected. "I mean, yeah, of course I do. I just feel… I don't know."

"You can tell me anything, kid," Cal assured her. "We're a team now. We gotta be there for each other."

Cruz sighed. She'd been feeling the tension for a while now. She couldn't quite place the reason behind it, but that made it all the more real.

"I've always been better on the super speedways - like Florida and Los Angeles," Cruz said. "On the simulator, in real life. This place, it handles differently. And I'm not good at it. I know I'm not doing well. I haven't been doing well all season."

"We're only halfway through your rookie season," Cal pointed out. "You're doing really well when you consider that. You even won your first race! No one's ever done that before. But I can see the difference between now and the beginning of the season when McQueen was crew chiefing you to get you started."

Cal let that hang in the air for a moment. Cruz didn't respond.

"Cruz, I want to help you. I know we don't have the history that you and Lightnin' have, but I want to be your friend. I want you to be successful. You've proven that you can win races. That only leaves me - I don't have any experience up on the stand, and - "

"It's not you," Cruz interrupted, glancing over at him with a worried look on her face. "Sorry to cut you off, but I promise, you're doing great. No miscommunications. You're really good at keeping me updated. And you're good at making tough calls. So… thank you, for that."

Cal slowed in surprise. That was the first time she'd said anything like that in the month they'd been working together.

"It's me," she continued, "I know how much this team, this track means to you and your family, and I don't know that I can carry that. I'm just not good enough."

Cal glanced over. Cruz looked so guilty. Her eye contact was fleeting, nearly frantic.

"I know I can be a good racer," Cruz kept rambling. "I know I can be good, but right now, a- and here? This weekend might not go super well. And I don't want to let you and the team down."

Cal smiled. Oh, had he only known this sooner. He reached out and gave her a friendly bump on the fender.

"Follow me. Let me show you something."

Cruz bit her lip. Where was he taking her?

"Do you remember the first MSS race of 2007, Cruz?" he asked as they made a sharp left turn down a hallway toward the speedway museum.

"Uh, that was before my time," she answered, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh," Cal caught himself. "Right, right. Sorry. Uh, well, that was my first race here with the team. You know what happened? Who won?"

"Probably you, I mean - "

"Lightning, as always. He dominated this place."

"What?"

Cal had her attention now. She perked up and listened intently.

"Yep, ol' McQueen. It was like his third win here in a row or something at that point. You know where I placed?"

"Uh, maybe - "

"Last. Dead. Last."

Cruz cast a questioning look in his direction. "Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh," he assured her lightheartedly. "Crashed out on lap two."

"What?" she asked in disbelief.

"Took a corner at a bad angle, got into someone else and got a little squirrely," he explained. "It all went downhill from there."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

Cal came to a stop in front of a plaque on a wall. Cruz looked up at it.

"You know what this is?" Cal asked her.

"Yeah, they add a little plate with the date and name of the winner of each race to it," she answered.

"Yeah," Cal confirmed. "Sucker goes back nearly fifty years. You know how many times I won in my career?"

"Probably a lot," Cruz murmured, looking at the most recent years and scanning for his name. She frowned.

"Three times," Cal recalled matter-of-factly. "Ten years of racing, and only three wins at this place."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Cruz protested. "There's that statistic that says - "

"Pfft," Cal shook himself. "That whole thirty percent of races in thirty years thing? That came from someone that was willing to manipulate the numbers to get something they could use. It's a load of bull. I didn't contribute to that in any meaningful way. Look. See that?"

Cruz looked to where Cal had gestured. "Nineteen eighties to nineteen nineties- holy moly. That is a _lot_ of wins!"

"Yeah, see? That wasn't me. That was all him. I think the stats person just wanted to be nice and include me. Stat would actually be a lot nicer if they left me out," Cal concluded.

"Huh," Cruz thought about it. "Guess I don't know as much as I thought I did."

"I want this to mean something to you, Cruz," Cal grew more serious. "I want you to know that this isn't my era anymore. It's not mine, it's not my family's. We've had our time. This is _yours_. You're a rookie, anything is possible yet. Just because you're not good at the track now doesn't mean you won't learn. And if you suck at it, you'll never suck more than I did. And that's okay. Your strengths are what they are, and we're gonna exploit them to the best of our abilities, together, alright? This is Team Dinoco: Cruz Ramirez edition. Forget about the past. This isn't the 43, this isn't the 42. This is the 51. We're making a future for you that's all your own. Alright?"

Cruz relaxed a little and smiled. "Alright."

Cal returned the smile and nodded. "You're alright, kiddo. Now, I won't hold you up any longer. You're free to go if you want. But be back tomorrow morning! We're gonna start fresh."

"Actually," Cruz gazed thoughtfully down at the floor. "I was wondering if we could run a couple more laps? If you don't mind running with me, that is."

"You want me?" Cal asked, surprised. "On the track? With you?"

"Yeah, I mean, why not? Teach me how to learn, you know?"

"Well, I'm no McQueen, but…"

"Psh, you think I was a McQueen fan and _just_ a McQueen fan? Please. I had a few favorites, you know."

Cal grinned.

"First one to the track's a flat tire."


End file.
